


Feels Good.

by Sinbirdy



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Bottom Hank, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fucking, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Orgasm, Piercings, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Self-Esteem Issues, Top Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 02:11:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18769060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinbirdy/pseuds/Sinbirdy
Summary: Sometimes Hank needs a distraction from his head, so Connor helps him out. Giving him some love is the least he could do!





	Feels Good.

**Author's Note:**

> Just sex because why not. Started out as a vent piece, turned into this!

There was nothing Connor loved more than the soft intimacy he made sure to savor every evening with Hank. After the strain of a hard working day, they'd both settle into the marriage bed to recharge, together, and Connor would embrace his partner in all his glory. If someone had let him sleep in the same bed as Hank the first night he was activated, he would have deviated immediately.

Connor just found humanity's unfiltered aesthetic to be delectable. He has an insatiable need to drink up everything it takes to become human and remain so day in day out, and when it comes to Hank, his craving for the simplicity to admire his existence heightens drastically. He sees so much beauty, and regardless if it's coated in a naive innocence, he's addicted to indulging in Hank's humanity. Sex mad sometimes, to his detriment, but drunk of love most definitely.

Hank likes to press his bum against Connor and nuzzle down for the night, purring happily when he feels an arm wrap around his abdomen. It's their dance, the unspoken tango that Hank leads. Connor might give a cheeky squeeze, smile when the older man grumbles, but he knows Hank loves being touched. He'll slip his hand up Hank's band tee, knead at the extra weight he's packed on since they began dating, or trace his fingers through the grey garden beneath his navel. He throws his leg over Hank, kisses the back of his neck and waits to see if Hank's in the mood. If his back arches it's a yes, if he rolls his neck it's a no.

Usually Connor's happy to feel the plush force of his bum against his concealed cock.

Tonight's a little tender though. Hank's deep in his own head, falling down the never ending spiral of self deprecation. He's been quiet all evening. Connor hates it, because Hank's silence is always deafening. 

They're at a comfortable place in their relationship that everything is second nature now. Connor knows the best ways to bringing a smile back to Hank's face, what will numb the pain for a few minutes and sedate the depression vibrating through his bones. A quick fix does what it says on the label, but it's appreciated when the alternative is loneliness. Fruity bath bombs, his favourite dessert, a movie marathon while Connor braids his hair...sure, Hank knew they wouldn't cure him, but the distraction made his internal turmoils easier to stomach.

In bed, Connor begins the usual routine of affection, but instead of Hank arching or flexing, he rolls over. Forehead to forehead, he takes Connor's hand and kisses his knuckles, sighing as he admires the sight of Connor's artificial skin retract gently. Connor studies every detail of Hank's face - the insignificant etchings deep in the blue of his iris', to the aged jovial lines on his cheeks from too much laughter. He could stare at Hank for centuries and never bore.

"You think we could?..." Hank bites his lip and strokes his foot up along Connor's leg suggestively. He's clammy; nervous, and hot. Connor can almost hear the rushing of blood as his heart thumbs violently against his chest.

"If you would like to," Connor brushes back a strand of Hank's hair. "Would you like me to penetrate you?"

Hank shies away into his chest, face flooding bloody red. "Yeah," he moans out softly, and wiggles himself closer to Connor. It's sweet, this 6 foot, 200 plus pound man adapting the characteristics of a more fragile soul. Connor laughs under his breath and kisses him on the forehead.

Tenderly, he turns Hank over onto his back and kisses down his neck. Sucking softly against his pulse point, the prominent and expected reaction of a bear-like growl is pulled from Hank's throat, and Connor stiffles his instinct to laugh. He pushes his hand up Hank's top to bunch the material at his chest and begins groping his pectoral. A sigh, as he melts, Hank's own hands move to hold the small of Connor's back. 

Skin is soft, even when it isn't. Hank claims he doesn't have soft skin - “next time Tina shaves, give her legs a rub, then tell me I got smooth fucking skin” - but Connor's sensors always feel warm and smooth when he runs them over Hank's body. The electricity in his veins, his wires practically short circuiting every second that passes, he could get drunk on touching Hank.

Hank knits his fingers in Connor's hair. It's soft, too, deceptively so. The manufacturing of synthetic, holographic hair is something that blows his mind way out of its depths. He focuses more on the silky but firm feel of Connor's lips edging toward the top of his collar bone. Connor's chest presses against Hank's abdomen but he's lighter than air. Everything about Connor is elegant, he can read Hank like a manual.

He needs Connor right now, more than he even truly comprehends. It's one of those days where he feels outcast and empty of all meaning, the intimacy of Connor's body and mind comforts him. Connor moves briefly to rummage in their bedside drawer, one hand staying put to play with the ball of his nipple piercing, and retrieves a bottle of lube. Hank bites his lip when Connor shows him the illusive bottle, hands holding the bunched material of his top. He looks precious. Too cute for a man of his stature and abrasive attitude.

"I'm going to take your clothes off now. Is that okay?" Connor watches Hank's face shift uncomfortably before tugging his top down over his belly.

"Can I keep my shirt on?"

Connor's smile fills his whole face. He leans over and kisses Hank tenderly. "Of course. Whatever makes you feel best." He presses a soft kiss to Hank's forehead and loops his fingers under the rim of Hank's pajama pants, moving and tugging them down. Hank groans when he feels the cold air on his exposed skin. His cock is already at half mast, twitching against his thigh. Connor exhales at the sight. He pulls one of the pillows out from behind Hank's head and fluffs it before sticking it under his back for support. The elevation makes things easier on him, easier for Connor too. 

Slowly after coating his fingers in copious amounts of lube, he lays between his legs with his cheek resting on his thigh, and presses his index finger up into Hank's hole. He winces on the intrusion, but relaxes as Connor takes things slow. He has slim fingers, soft like silk or cotton, and move with elegance like a gentle tide, but they feel thick like a beer can when compared to the compromised velvety space of his ass. He whimpers through his breath, eye twitching as Connor crooks his finger to gain more depth. Hank's breathing becomes more laboured and he releases the softest growls; similar to Sumo when he's just fallen asleep, snoring. Connor presses delicate kisses to the inside of Hank's squishy thigh. He strokes the skin afterwards.

"Is this good, Hank?" Connor asks, gingerly slipping another finger inside and scissoring them to stretch Hank's ass. Connor loves Hank when he goes quiet, just the gentle hitches where his lungs are punctured. He waits for a verbal reply, but it takes a few lustful seconds that feel infinite before Hank finds the nerve to speak.

"Good...very good." He arches his back slightly and looks down over his shoulder to find Connor's eyes. He's a little obstructed by his own belly and leg, but he finds the hopeful brown eyes all the same, looking back at him like he's a trophy. He hates how he's at Connor's mercy-- and by hate he means absolutely adores to the point of obsession! He unintentionally grinds down on Connor's fingers and let's out an embarrassing high pitch whine as he feels the distinct push against his prostate. His face floods red and he bites his lip in an attempt to hide his arousal.

"You're beautiful." Connor kisses Hank's thigh, leaving long, hot, wet bite marks the further up his pale skin, delighting to be rewarded with more uncontrollable whines and moans. "The most breathtaking sight I've ever seen." He slips in another finger and laughs under his breath at how loose Hank is, how with every stretch of his fingers to tease him give Hank involuntarily whimpers with such desperate need. Like this too, when the mood is soft and the air is like silk sheets, it's sweeter than any summer romance could try. 

Hank throws his head back and runs his fingers through his tousled hair. "Wh-why me, Con?" He moans through his teeth and relaxes his body, looking down at Connor who's not looking back, too caught up lying on Hank's thigh, soaking up the sight of what Hank would deem uglier than sin. He feels Connor mouth at his balls, run his tongue over them and moves his fingers in time, making Hank buck up. "Ah-- fuck, baby, Jesus--"

"You're an absolute treasure to me, my love." Connor takes his fingers out of Hank and sits up between his legs. He grins, bemused at the image of his lover red faced and embarrassed. He crawls over Hank's body and rests against his chest with his crossed arms. "Because when I look at you, I see a sexy, kind, intelligent man."

Hank snickers, self mockingly. "I think you should get those eyes of yours replaced for one."

"Never. These are the eyes that fell in love with you."

"Ew, don't make me fucking barf."

"You're the one who started this conversation, you asked why you." 

Hank turns his head away but is just as quickly redirected back to Connor's loving gaze. His hand against his cheek, he closes the gap between them and kisses him tenderly, smiling high, both of them.

"You're all I ever want, Hank." He said between kisses. "You are the love of my life."

Connor haphazardly shimmies out of his boxers and throws them across the room. He's completely naked while Hank keeps his top on - and socks, forgetting they're still on. Connor lets Hank's eyes travel down his body for a minute, then leans over him.

When Hank feels the gentle tug from Connor's hands he follows them to sit up and clamber onto Connor's awaiting lap. He kneels either side of his legs and holds his cheeks open in either hand as he carefully aligns himself with Connor's tall cock. His lips have found their way back to Connor's though, as if afraid to let go for too long. Connor holds his hips in his hands and as Hank sinks down on his prick, he snickers against Hank's lips. The feeling is pure bliss, something Connor wouldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams before deviancy. Hank stretches around his cock, but he feels made for Connor. He's the puzzle piece he's been missing, been yearning for to feel complete. Making love with Hank is almost enough to help him become human, he's convinced! 

As Hank lowers himself down, sheathing Connor's cock, he whines low, shoulders arching in reaction to the slight burn from the stretch.

He pants, lowers his head in embarrassment. Connor tilts his head to try find Hank's eyes again, and when he succeeds, he smiles warmly. Hank looks wrecked already.

"You okay?" Connor's voice is barely above a whisper. He loosens his nails where they dig into Hank's hips and strokes his skin with his thumbs. Slowly his skin begins to retract, revealing the matte white of his android hand. 

Hank nods, swallowing hard. He positions his hands around Connor's neck, hanging down his back, and grins. "When I'm with you, hell yeah." He bites his lip and laughs through a sniff. "Now start thrusting before I get bored."

Connor rolls his eyes but obliges (obviously). 

With the first roll of his hips he watches as Hank's devious grin slowly falls into a bashful circle. Mouth wide, his moans fall shamelessly and slowly rise in volume, emphasising what every thrust did to him. Hank does his best to roll his hips in time with Connor's, bounce like a veteran porn star in their glory days, but he's a victim to his own arousal and always ends up lost in the fog of lust. 

Connor moves his hand to snake up Hank's band tee, resting against the plump pooch of his belly. Hank instinctively sucks in and hides his face in Connor's shoulder. He runs his fingers up through the long hairs of his happy trail and dips the tip of his index finger in the depth of his belly button. The small bell of his piercing obstructs him. He knocks the charm that hangs off the bar and snickers and when Hank tries to hide himself further into his own tense shoulders.

"I love your body." Connor speaks softly, his mouth inches from Hank's ear. He makes sure every letter is pronounced with finesse, and breathes down the back of Hank's neck, waiting for him to shiver where the warmth hits him. "You are gorgeous to me, and I'd go so far as to call you perfect." He runs his hand down the excess pouch of Hank's tummy and takes it in his hand, squeezing it like a stress ball. Hank moans in annoyance; though it's hard to tell when mixed with his more erotic sounds. Connor trades his grip in for rubbing his skin. "You are."

"You don't gotta lie to me, Con." Hank sits up and rolls his neck on his shoulders, throwing his hair back. He begins grinding down on Connor with more urgency. "I know I ain't much."

"Please don't put yourself down like that. I see absolute beauty when I look at you."

"You're so full of shit."

"No, I am not." Connor bucks up and angles his hips so he hits Hank's prostate hard, and smiles mischievously when he's rewarded with a strangled moan and the picture perfect view of Hank's eyes crossing into the middle. He hates his face during sex - hates how lost he gets in the moment, any restraint he has is thrown out the window. Connor however is positively obsessed with how blissed out he looks. He wraps his arms around Hank's back and holds him up slightly so he can continue to pound into him full force, hitting his prostate over and over and over again continuously. Hank's eyes roll back. "You're incredible in so many ways, I love you."

"Mmm, Con…" Hank bites his lip and rocks absentmindedly against Connor's throbbing dick, overwhelmed as it hits his sweet spot every time. His starts to lose his right mind as well as his rhythm and aimlessly ruts his way through his orgasm. He presses his forehead against Connor's. "Fuck me."

"I already am."

"Harder." He digs his fingers into Connor's neck. He swallows down hard. "I want to cum."

"I know." Connor speeds up his thrusts. "I've got you."

"Mmmmph-- you feel so good...so big," he takes Connor's hands from around his waist and slips them up his top. The material of his tee bunches up on Connor's wrists. Hank settles them on his chest and takes a deep breath, encouraging him to squeeze and grope his pecs which Connor needs little sweet talking to do so, and takes lead in a moment's notice. Hank arches his back as Connor starts playing with his nipples, rolling the piercing and pulling gently to make him whine. 

Connor truly loves Hank's body. He loves every scar that cascades over his dusted skin, how his hairs curl and intertwine in one another like unruly gray hedges, and he loves he he feels so real. Connor feels a rush of warmth from just looking at Hank sometimes and watching him indulge in the mundane reality of human existence, so getting to feel his heartbeat beneath his palm is like heaven. When Hank's this close and this breathless, Connor's thirium pump feels close to imploding in on itself out of sheer wonder.

He looks down between them and admires the curve of his belly, how his own erect cock knocks against his navel, wet with pre-cum. He grins and lifts his head, focusing back to Hank's wild eyes. His vitals are going crazy, doing flips back and forth, and Connor gets lost in the glitchy lights of his A.I. He squeezes Hank's thick pecs harder, and closes the gap between them to take Hank's mouth. 

Hank moans like a whore, unable to even pucker his lips properly as Connor fucks into him at light speed. Before he even knows it, he's grabbing Connor's shoulders and shouting his name into his mouth, body shaking as he cums all over his belly. Connor laughs under his breath. He kisses down Hank's jaw and bites at his neck as his own climax comes through full force. 

Then it's quiet. The sublime of their feelings comes over them both like a blanket, and all is tranquil. Hank rests limp against Connor, panting heavily while he purrs at the feel of hands raking up and down his back. The feeling of fullness warms his chest - it's homely and satisfying, in a way unlike anything Hank's ever known before, and the breezy quiet whistling through his thoughts is an easier target to focus on. 

Eventually Hank lifts off Connor, knees shaky, back aching, and falls with a thud against the bed. Connor gently nuzzles himself in under Hank's arm and kisses his chest. He pulls Hank's top down over most of his body but draws circles over the squish of his belly. Hank closes his eyes and sighs.

"Thanks." He looks down at Connor and runs his fingers through his hair. "I needed that."

"You do not need to thank me for engaging in penetration."

Hank grunts. "I hate when you talk like that. You sound so fucking robotic."

"I'm sorry. What I mean was," he moves up to lean in at Hank's ear, "it's my pleasure to fuck your tight fat ass." And to emphasise his point, he nips the lobe of his ear and grinds against his side. Hank moans under his breath, playfully pushing Connor away.

"There's still cum dripping out my ass as we speak, cool it hot shot."

"You don't think you could go again?"

Hank goes to snipe at him when he notices the sizeable erection filling between Connor's legs...again. He looks between the appendage and Connor's wide innocent gaze and rolls his eyes.

"You'll be the fucking death of me, I swear."

And despite the tone of aggravation, he more than willingly agrees to letting Connor fuck him in the shower less than 5 minutes later in their attempt to clean up...

**Author's Note:**

> (note how Hank seems to have belly button and nipple piercings in all my fics now)
> 
> You know the drill, if you like, check out my gross twitter @HanksDaddyKink.
> 
> I'm hoping to start doing more SFW content soon my I take requests over there for a certain exchange if you catch my drift 👀 💕


End file.
